


not that we're scared

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Ear Piercings, First Meetings, M/M, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 12:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20657153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: “You have really, really good ears,” Newt says, abruptly sitting up. “You ever think about piercing them?”Hermann takes a few moments to compose himself, unprepared for the odd compliment or the strange request. What does he say to this? He’s maybe considered it in a passing moment of rebellion, but it’s nothing more than that: just a glimmer of a thought in the back of his mind, no more and no less.in which a first meeting has an unexpected ending





	not that we're scared

**Author's Note:**

> Not dead! Just...yeah. This is based on twitter conversations from a few months back, something that's been sitting in my drafts for a while.
> 
> Title from "Delicate" from Damien Rice
> 
> Enjoy! Comment! Love!

This is not the way he was hoping to end up in Newt’s hotel room, but Hermann supposes there’s something to be said for the fact that he’s achieved his goal. Not that he’s regarding his penpal/friend/colleague/crush as some sort of conquest, but there’s nothing wrong with some healthy optimism. After all, Newt had sent him those polaroids where he looked exceptionally attractive and told Hermann he looked “cute” in the photo he sent to him in return.

But now Newt’s said nothing about his appearance at all. They didn’t talk much at the conference itself, but then connected at the hotel bar. Hermann bought the drinks, because the money was his father’s anyway. Newt smiled a sort of awkward, lopsided smile at him and thanked him after each drink. They each had three, not an excessive amount, but enough to make both the limbs and tongue loose. It felt both like too much and not enough, as though a fourth would make a substantial difference. The idea of ordering another came to Hermann’s mind at the same moment Newt stumbled out the invitation.

“D’you want to come up to my room?” Newt had asked, sliding his empty glass aside. “I’ve got cheaper stuff in the fridge.”

“What kind of conference were you planning for?” Hermann joked.

“A fun one.” Newt had slid off the bar stool then, charmingly his feet did not touch the ground, and seemed certain that Hermann would follow without another word. It’s terrifying, to be known. It’s even more terrifying to be known by someone who has only been in Hermann’s presence for less than five hours total and who is currently wearing chipped neon green nail polish to a professional event.

Newt’s room is already chaos, with clothes tossed on each of the desk chairs he’s been given and the suitcase lying open on the bed. With a sheepish look, Newt attempts to tuck that away and pats the bed, signalling that this is the best seat in the room for Hermann. It certainly looks more comfortable than the wooden chairs or the scratchy couch that must be from the 1980s. 

Even after Hermann’s seated, Newt practically paces the room, fidgeting with his clothes and then the television, which he switches on and off again. It’s only after a few moments that he even seems to recall what he asked Hermann to his room for.

“Oh!” Newt exclaims, rushing to his fridge. “Do you want something to drink? It’s just a six pack, honestly, I’m not- I’m not gonna go crazy or anything.” There’s an attractive blush on Newt’s cheeks and Hermann regards him with a mix of attraction and envy. When he blushes, it spreads across his face and down his chest. For Newt, it adds a ruddiness to his already lively appearance. It’s natural, not awkward. Hermann’s not sure what to do with his hands. He knows what he wants to do with his hands.

“N-no,” Hermann answers. “I’m good. But you can have one if you like.”

The blush seems to shift to a sly smile. “I was thinking maybe half of one, if you’d be willing to share. Or even just have a few sips…”

“Sure, why not.”

Hermann tries not to watch too intently as Newt removes the cap with a keychain he’s shoved in his pocket. Or the way, halfway through the first sip, he makes a face, as though realizing it was rude not to offer to Hermann first. Newt sheepishly holds the bottle out to him, wiping his sleeve across his mouth. Honestly, Hermann’s just grateful for having a place to put his hands. He doesn’t think, until he’s taken his sip, that this bottle has just been pressed against Newt’s mouth. It’s a small mercy that he thought of this after the fact, otherwise he might be inconsolable at the fact. 

Something passes Newt’s face for a moment and then it’s gone, and Newt sits beside Hermann. He gives him a few moments before holding out his hand, slipping the beer bottle from Hermann’s hand. It’s an IPA and Hermann doesn’t much care for it, but he finds himself hoping Newt will pass it back for the chance to brush his fingers against his.

“How d’you like that?” Newt asks.

“It’s...nice.” Hermann hums, feigning contentment. He is content, like some chapter of his life is closed, it’s just terrifying to know something new could be starting.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Newton.”

Newt is eager to please, but Hermann’s ego is not large enough for him to pretend to think this is something specific to him. He wants to be liked, or at least found interesting. Or maybe Hermann’s projecting some hidden desire onto Newt because he’s found a kindred spirit. Or maybe Hermann’s deflecting from thinking about hidden desires altogether, because it’s for the best.

Lost in his thoughts, Hermann barely passes a glance at Newt as he lays back on the bed, spreading his arms across the comforter. His shirt sleeves are slid up just enough to reveal the starting of the tattoo sleeves, some atrocious kaiju themed things Newt’s been writing about in his letters. Hermann’s not bold enough for those sorts of changes, but he can imagine the faces Newt makes as the artist drags the needle across his skin, winces and grimaces, and biting his full lower lip. With Newt’s position, it’s easy enough to realign his thoughts, think of other scenarios that are more pleasant. The room suddenly feels very warm and Hermann debates undoing the top button of his shirt.

“You have really, really good ears,” Newt says, abruptly sitting up. “You ever think about piercing them?”

Hermann takes a few moments to compose himself, unprepared for the odd compliment or the strange request. What does he say to this? He’s maybe considered it in a passing moment of rebellion, but it’s nothing more than that: just a glimmer of a thought in the back of his mind, no more and no less.

For the authentic piercing experience, Newt’s blasting some sort of pop punk atrocity from his phone. Nothing else about the experience is authentic, as the needle in question is something from a sewing kit provided by the hotel and the jewelry in question is… Well, Hermann’s not sure where that’s come from but Newt tells him “not to worry about it” and so he doesn’t.

Newt darts out his tongue as he flicks Hermann’s lighter under the needle. Apparently this is the best way to guarantee the needle is sterilized, but Hermann wonders what the point of sterilizing the thing is at this point. He’s as fucked as he’d be if he jammed a dirty needle into his ear. Ears. Newt’s telling him he should pierce both.

With the tools laid out and dipped in hydrogen peroxide, Newt dips into the bucket of ice he’d prepared for the occasion, holding a cube to the front and then to the back of Hermann’s ears. There’s a tenderness to the movements that Hermann’s certain he’s imagining, in the way Newt holds Hermann steady with his free hand, fingers stroking gently against his neck.

“You ready?” Newt asks the question softly, surprisingly sober sounding.

“As I’ll ever be.” Hermann sucks in a sharp breath.

The pain, at first, is not much more intense than getting pricked for a shot. He’s had many of those, and a few surgeries as well. Newt’s stabbed the needle into a small piece of sponge and at first Hermann thinks he’s just surprised by the shock of it. Then Newt wiggles the needle about, and while Hermann knows this is necessary it doesn’t stop him from cursing, or tears from pricking at his eyes.

“Bloody hell, Newton,” he yelps. “You could have given more warning.”

“Then you’d be screaming at me!” Newt defends himself. “It’s best to just do it as a surprise.”

“Can you take the bloody thing out?”

“Well, first of all that’s an apt choice of words. Second of all, no.”

“Am I bleeding?” Hermann asks, but he doesn’t want to know the answer. He suddenly feels faint.

“Just give me a sec, Hermann.” There’s a moment of relief as the needle is removed, and then the jarring pain of something else being jabbed through the hole. It’s a small silver stud, but it feels giant in that moment. “There, done.”

“Have you ever done this before?” Hermann realizes this question should have been asked several minutes ago.

Newt deflects, giving a far too charming grin. “Uh.”

Hermann stands, probably too abruptly, and all but marches into the bathroom. He’s not sure how he’s feeling. Mostly foolish. He’s done this because he wants any excuse for Newt’s hands on him, because he’s too much of a coward to ask for what he actually wants. At least, he thinks, looking in the bathroom mirror.

“You ready for the other one?” Newt calls from the bedroom.

“That won’t be necessary,” Hermann announces as he re-emerges. “I think that’s enough pain for one evening.”

“But you’ve only done one.”

Newt’s perched at the end of the bed, holding up the freshly sterilized sewing needle.

“One’s fine, I think.”

“It’s the straight one.”

“The what now?”

“I did your left side. That’s the straight side, so everyone will think you’re-”

Hermann blinks a few times, unsure of how to proceed. He’s never heard of such a thing in his life, or thought anyone would take it seriously, least of all Newt. But he’s also never pointedly told Newt that he’s not straight, so this is entirely something he’s assuming.

“Oh,” Newt says at length. “Sorry- I had assumed that you were-” He sets down the needle and supplies gingerly. “But you know what they say about assumptions- ass out of you and me. Well, mostly me in this case.”

There’s something horrifically crestfallen in Newt’s expression that Hermann can’t help but glean hope from.

“I am. I mean, I am as you assumed,” Hermann amends. “But I don’t think something so trivial matters, especially when I’ve been so busy working and have hardly had the time to think about companionship of any sort.”

That last part’s a lie, it’s just easier to think about Newt without stress when he lives an ocean away than it would be to think of the handsome man who lives across the hall from him or the boy he was in love with in university. Confronted with Newt, loud and impulsive and endearingly attractive, things have become far too complicated. It hasn’t even been half a day and things have become complicated.

“Companionship of any sort?” Newt repeats and snorts. “So you’re saying you’re married to the job.”

“I don’t see what’s funny, Newton. You’ve just maimed me and now you mock me.”

“Maimed you.” Newt smiles and it’s far too soft for the situation. “If I take the earring out now, it’ll heal completely. Or nearly completely.”

“No, it can stay.”

“Can I inspect it?”

Hermann steps back towards the bed and settles down beside Newt. He knows where to put his hands now, but he’s not sure if he should.

“You know, I don’t have anyone either,” Newt says, inspecting him carefully. And then he sees it, Newt biting his lower lip. “In that way. You’re right, it’s hard with work.”

“Still can be lonely,” Hermann confesses as he turns to Newt.

“Would you-” Newt pauses, swallows hard. “Maybe we should take a night, just one night, and make it less lonely?”

Pieces that Hermann didn’t know were missing start to fall into place then. The shared drink, the excuse to touch closely. He sees clearly in Newt’s expressions the exact things he’s been feeling tonight. He also understands the same hesitation, the same fear. They are equals in their desire and their cowardice. But now is not the time for bravery. Bravery would be a distraction and is not for them in the now. If the world doesn’t end, Hermann will be brave then.

For tonight, he’s a coward with a throbbing earlobe and Newt’s hand in his.

“Tomorrow, everything will go back to the way it was,” Hermann states. “Not because-”

“Dude, you don’t need to explain. I get it. I’m there with you.”

Despite himself, Hermann smiles for a moment. Newt feels the same about him, maybe if they manage to get past this thing, Newt will still feel the same. For now, he does the only thing that he can do and leans forward and presses a kiss to Newt’s mouth. The pain is forgotten and he melts into the feeling of closeness.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter @ newtguzzler!


End file.
